No matter how I wrapped myself in the sheets, they clung to me like a hundred unwanted hands.
But when I threw them off, I felt naked and cold.
I’d come straight home after leaving Jocelyn’s, hoping to find comfort in my bed. But all I’d done the past few hours was toss and turn.
I thought I’d be relieved, but instead, I couldn’t shake the worry that some part of my biological makeup might have predetermined my failure to conceive.
Suddenly, I heard Aiden’s car pull up in the driveway.
I hadn’t expected him home till later, and I didn’t want him to see me reacting this way. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to communicate properly why I was feeling this deep sense of unease.
As soon as he opened the door, he called out my name.
“I’m upstairs,” I shouted, trying to compose myself before he saw me.
When he entered the room, I looked over at him and was struck anew by how statuesque and handsome he appeared.
His crisp collared shirt clung to his chest, tapering neatly to his trim waist, and stretched around his arms. His normally wild black locks were resting perfectly on top of his head, begging me to run my fingers through them.
And his face, that rough-hewn, once-in-a-lifetime face that was all I wanted to see when I woke up and before I went to bed…
And here I was looking like a mess, clutching the bedsheets like a child.
“You’re home early,” I said, hoping to put the focus back on him.
“You weren’t answering your phone. Jocelyn said you might be here.”
“I needed some alone time. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”
Aiden walked over to the bed and lay down next to me, his powerful hand coming to rest on my hip. “Tell me what’s wrong, Sienna.”
This was the moment. I had to be honest with him.
“I missed my period.”
His face went blank for a moment before processing the implications. “Wait, are you saying that—”
“I thought I was. I went to Jocelyn, but she didn’t see anything. She said it’s just the haze messing with my cycle.”
“Are you sure? I mean maybe it was too small for her to see.”
“I’m sure, Aiden.”
The light in his face faded, and he looked at my pillow. I followed his gaze, noticing the tearstains there.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You don’t have to be upset. We can try again.”
“That’s not why I’m crying, Aiden. What if this is my fault? What if I’m not meant to be a mother? You’ve already given up so much for me, I don’t want you to have to sacrifice kids as well.”
“Sure, I’d love to have kids with you one day. But you’re the most important thing to me. Plus, I think you’re forgetting we’re mates, Sienna. You’re stuck with me for life.”
“I know. That’s why I’m so freaked out. What if there’s something about my birth family that means I can’t have kids?”
“It wouldn’t matter,” he replied, sitting up. “You’re my main priority. I thought I made that clear.”
He had, and I knew it was silly of me to think otherwise.
“I know you’re nervous about having children, but you won’t be alone, Sienna. I’m here. Your family is here. And if we’re being honest, I’m scared too, but I know what a wonderful mother you’ll be and that, together, we can figure it all out.”
How could he be so sure? There was no way to know. Was he just telling me what I wanted to hear to calm me down?
I think he could see the doubt that was lingering in my expression, because he suddenly reached out to stroke my arm.
“Sienna, you don’t know what led to your parents leaving you. You don’t even know if it was their decision.”
He had a point. I had kind of jumped to the worst-case scenario. I just hated feeling like I was letting Aiden down.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
He lay down again and nestled in beside me. “You don’t think I’m like my parents, do you?”
“God no!” I almost burst out laughing at how ridiculous he sounded.
Sure, he had the same stern brow as his father and the same dominant vibe as his mother…but he was still a far cry from his parents.
“So you see,” he said smugly. “It doesn’t matter who your birth parents are or why they left you. You’re not them, and you’re going to be an amazing mother—whenever that happens.”
I rolled over and kissed his cheek.
“Interested in trying for that right now?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
I smacked him jokingly. He always had to ruin things by bringing his filthy mind out to play.
“We were having a nice moment!” I said, rolling onto my back.
For a while, we just lay there with our arms pressing against each other.
I knew he was right. Whoever my birth parents were, it didn’t define who I was, or what type of mother I was going to be.
But I still felt that vacant space in my heart.
I still wanted to know who they were.
“Sienna?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you take the morning off and paint. Clear your head. Josh and I can hold down the fort.”
I smiled. That was exactly what I needed, and it warmed my heart how well my mate knew me.
Maybe I’d even go to the park if it wasn’t too cold…
That reminded me. With everything that had happened these past few weeks, I’d never gotten back to that man I met in the park. But I ~had~ put his info into my contacts.
I leaned over and kissed Aiden on the cheek, then grabbed my phone.
Good evening, Konstantin, this is Sienna
The artist from the park
I hope it’s not too late in the day to be texting you
Of course not! How are you?
I’m well, thanks
Still interested in stopping by the gallery?
I certainly am. What time is best?
How about tomorrow at 4?
121 Furtagh Ave
Perfect. See you then, Sienna.
***
When I arrived at the pack house after spending the morning at the park, I was feeling a lot better.
Painting had been a good distraction from all my thoughts surrounding my birth parents, and I was excited to meet with a potential client later.
Especially one with good taste.
That said, I still had to catch up on all the administrative tasks I’d fallen behind on, like the charity list Josh kept hounding me about.
He was a really nice guy outside of work—at least once we’d gotten over our initial difficulties—but when it came to pack business, I think he took his job a little too seriously.
I had just finished reviewing some impact proposals and was about to start on my list when a text came through.
I had a change in my schedule. Any chance you could meet earlier?
I glanced at the time. It was almost two. If I hurried I could make it across town in about twenty minutes.
2:30 work for you?
Perfect. See you then.
I was still arranging paintings on the wall when Konstantin strode into my gallery wearing a sharp navy overcoat and charcoal fedora.
Once again, he looked like he just stepped out of an expensive menswear catalog.
“I’m not early, am I?”
“No, not at all.” I brushed my hands off on my skirt. “I’m running late. Please come in.”
His cologne smelled like roses and spice and had an almost intoxicating quality to it.
I didn’t know what it was about this man, but he wasn’t like most werewolves that I knew. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if he ~was~ a werewolf. But he didn’t really seem human, either…
“This is a lovely little space you have here.”
“Thank you, it was a gift from my mate.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about him. The esteemed alpha.”
Well, if he wasn’t a werewolf, he was certainly up on werewolf current events. “How did you…”
“You’ve been all over the news. Unless that’s your twin sister I’ve been reading about.”
Of course, what was I thinking? I’d tuned out so much of that noise, I’d forgotten Aiden’s press conference would still be fodder for the papers and blogs.
Being recognized was something I still had to get used to.
“It must be hard,” he said, giving me a sympathetic look, “having your family background scrutinized, being called a stray. And leading a pack when so young would be a lot to handle for anyone.”
I suddenly remembered that Konstantin’s card said he was a psychologist, and I was beginning to feel a bit…~psychoanalyzed~.
I wanted to change the subject.
Even though his analysis of the situation was spot on.
“I try to ignore the tabloids,” I said, avoiding eye contact.
He must’ve picked up on my discomfort with the subject because he didn’t press it any further.
“Do you manage this place on your own?” he asked.
“For now. Maybe if I start putting more time into it, I’ll hire help. Right now it’s kind of my personal sanctuary.”
“Lovely,” he said, starting to stroll along the wall.
“So, what type of pieces are you looking for?”
“Like I mentioned in the park, I have a penthouse that I need to decorate. I’m looking for some statement pieces.” He removed his coat and hat to reveal a fitted black suit, then drew nearer and started to inspect the canvases I’d just hung.
“Are you looking for a still life? A landscape?” I asked.
“I’m hoping for something more conceptual…provocative. Like that,” he said, motioning to a painting in the back corner of the gallery.
I was surprised by his choice.
The painting was one I had done quite some time ago: a gorgeous ethereal woman with jet-black hair and haunting purple eyes.
~Eve.~
I hadn’t seen her since that night, almost a year ago, when she’d stopped by my gallery. Though for some reason, I was having trouble remembering what we’d spoken about…
“Why this one?” I asked.
He stroked his chin as he approached the painting and stood in front of it.
“She speaks to me,” he responded cryptically. “I suppose I can see a bit of myself in her.”
Eve was about the most mysterious person I’d ever met, so that made me even more curious.
“How so?”
Konstantin turned to me and grinned, and when I saw his teeth, I gasped.
~Fangs.~
“You could say there’s a sort of ~blood~ relation between us.”
“You…you’re…a…”
Konstantin’s gray eyes flashed with amusement.
“I’m a vampyre.”